


ever after you

by violinbee



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Childhood Friends, Christmas, Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi-centric, M/M, Makeup, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29208885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violinbee/pseuds/violinbee
Summary: To say Soonyoung hates this is an understatement. Acting like a stranger to someone you know better than yourself isdifficult. Nothing is the same. Soonyoung, who’s so prone to ritual and habit has to face change directly and he’s not sure how long he can keep it together before he’s forced to face the ultimate truth that maybe he’d never been better off without Wonwoo all along.Before all of this inevitably collapses in on itself.Soonyoung and Wonwoo save Christmas.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	ever after you

One month and three days. 

It has been one month and three days since everything went to complete and utter shit. 

Well, that’s not entirely true. Soonyoung’s career is flourishing; he’s not only been invited to train and work at one of the most prestigious dance studios in Seoul but graduation is only a semester away; the supposed start to the rest of his life. In a way, he is happy. Really — he is. There are just some things that can’t be fixed, that are out of his control, whether he likes it or not. This is the reality he has to live with. 

If time has proven anything though, it’s that Soonyoung is nothing if not a bit of a control freak. 

It’s only when his mom calls that the panic really sets in. He recalls her voice as clear as day, _”Don’t forget — the Jeons are hosting Christmas dinner this year so dress warm and send our thanks to Wonwoo, okay?”_

One month and three days. It has been one month and three days since he had heard that name. 

It’s funny how quickly _his_ name got banned. When Soonyoung had moved out and in with Jihoon, the younger had swiftly learned that Soonyoung had absolutely zero interest in talking about it. There was a point in time where all Soonyoung would do is gush about _him_ , so much so that it turned into an ongoing joke amongst his friends. He thinks he’s a little stupid for letting himself grow that infatuated. Maybe even a little embarrassed. 

Soonyoung had always been a little stupid with love, not that he had whole lot of experience. Having your eyes set on the same person since age 12 really seemed to hinder the whole love-life thing. It’s bittersweet. Soonyoung wonders if your first love can be your last, not that the answer matters. Nothing really matters, anymore, does it?

After all, it has been one month and three days since he has spoken to Jeon Wonwoo.

—————————–

_July, 2002._

“Soonyoung-ah! Get dressed and come downstairs!” 

One glance at the thick red numbers blinking on Soonyoung’s alarm clock indicate that it is _way_ too early for his mom to be gathering everyone for dinner. It was also a Saturday — no tutoring on Saturdays. Begrudgingly, Soonyoung looks at the little block town he’s meticulously organized, bidding it a soft farewell.

Then, without (loud) complaint, he sets his toy cars on one of the sectioned off roads and rushes down the stairs, little feet thumping clumsily against the carpeted steps. It’s only when he emerges into their small dining room that he notices they have guests, straightening up quickly and beelining for his mother who calmly lifts him into her lap. 

“Soonyoung, these are our new neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Jeon. They just moved in a couple weeks ago and had someone they thought you may like to meet,” she says, gently carding her hands through his hair as he turns to the guests with a curious look.

There are two adults, a man and a woman. They’re both well-dressed and seem friendly enough. In the chair beside them and noticeably clinging to the woman’s skirt, though, is a little boy who looks to be around Soonyoung’s age. That’s what eventually makes him perk up, head tilting to the side as they make eye contact. The other boy averts his gaze quickly. Soonyoung wants to ask him why but holds back. 

“Wonwoo honey,” Mrs. Jeon coaxes softly, “Say hello.” 

The boy, Wonwoo, looks at his mom pleadingly but to no avail before turning back to Soonyoung and softly speaking, “Hi.”

Soonyoung’s mom nudges him gently when he doesn’t respond right away but he quickly springs into action, “Hi. I’m Soonyoung.” 

Wonwoo nods but doesn’t look up at Soonyoung. The older finds himself a little bothered by this and wriggles in his mother’s lap, indicating that he wants to be let down. She obliges, allowing Soonyoung to round the table and walk right up to Wonwoo. There’s a moment of silence, the younger blinking at him owlishly before he’s speaking again. 

“Do you want to play Hot Wheels with me?” 

That’s all it seems to take for Wonwoo to loosen up because the boy’s eyes widen in excitement, “You have Hot Wheels?”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says, growing giddy himself at the prospect of a new playmate, “I also have the tracks and everything!”

Wonwoo appears to think about it for a moment before he turns to his mother, beginning to squirm as well, “Eomma, can I play with Soonyoung-hyung?” 

The woman looks fondly down at her son before patting his cheek, “Of course. Just be nice to Soonyoung and be careful, okay?” 

Wonwoo agrees hurriedly and noncommittally, already following behind Soonyoung as they both rush to his room. The rest is history.

—————————–

“Soonyoung, we need to talk.”

It’s almost ironic — this is the second time he’s heard those words out of Wonwoo’s mouth and if this time is nearly as devastating as the first, Soonyoung has half a mind to just hang up. One month and three days is a long time to not speak to someone you had otherwise seen every single day; why break that winning streak now? There’s something about the desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes Soonyoung pause though, pursing his lips before he’s letting out a deep sigh.

“What do you want?” 

Wonwoo proceeds to let out his own sigh, though his seems to be out of relief. This only piques Soonyoung’s curiosity further. Before he tries to hurry things along, make this a little less painful for both parties involved, Wonwoo is speaking again, “Have you spoken to your parents recently? Did they tell you what’s happening?”

Oh. _Oh_. So _that’s_ what this is about. 

Soonyoung deflates a little. Perhaps he’d been a little too optimistic to have been expecting something different. Then again, something about hearing Wonwoo’s voice again, knowing that at one point, it was the only one he’d look forward to brought about this sour, unshakeable dé jà vu. Wishful thinking, more like. 

Soonyoung hates that Wonwoo still has any effect over him at all. 

“Yes,” he finally says after a long moment, letting his forehead fall into his free hand, “Have you spoken to your parents about…” 

“No, they don’t know that we’re not together,” Wonwoo says bluntly. 

Good to know that if anything, both he and Wonwoo are excellent at avoiding important conversations. 

Soonyoung squeezes his eyes shut, almost as though the words physically sting. It’s funny how he can be improving, maybe even beginning to move on and a voice is all it takes to quickly and smoothly wash away any type of progress. He can’t help but wonder how Wonwoo can seem so unaffected. Did any of it matter to begin with? He thanks every deity he can think of for the fact that Wonwoo decided to have this conversation with him over the phone. 

He supposes it was a silly question to begin with — of course they didn’t. They wouldn’t have organized this holiday at all if they had. For the sake of his dignity, he regathers himself and bites out, “So, does that mean they also don’t know about—?”

Wonwoo cuts him off, “No. They don’t. Yours?” 

“No. None of it.” 

For some reason, Soonyoung would’ve thought Wonwoo’s parents would be the first to know. Seems, though, that they both reached the silent consensus that the reality of this all would be best kept away from mom and dad for as long as possible. Nothing would be the same — no more joint vacations and sleepovers, no more holiday dinners. Everything, years upon years of memories, down the drain in a few hours. They could suffer through it themselves, but they couldn’t do that to their families. Not yet. 

“I was going to tell them after Christmas,” Wonwoo has the mind to sound a little sad when he says it but it quickly morphs into frustration, “And I was also hoping Christmas wouldn’t be joint this year.”

Sure, he knows the answer but Soonyoung asks to be petty. Sue him. “And why is that?” 

“Soonyoung, please don’t make this harder than it already is.” Wonwoo sounds tired, exhausted even. Almost as if any fight he had left has been completely drained.

A small, dark, petty part of Soonyoung likes that Wonwoo actually sounds affected for once. Maybe it’s good; let him know what it’s like.

“Get on with it then. Why are you calling?” 

Wonwoo seems to be exasperated at this point, “Why do you think I’m calling?”

“Wonwoo…” And that’s the first time he’s said that name out loud himself since everything had happened. It tastes bitter on his tongue. 

“Listen, I’m not going to be responsible for ruining Christmas,” Wonwoo says irritably, “And there’s no way in hell we’re getting through dinner without doing that unless we figure something out now.” 

“Can you not cancel?” Soonyoung sighs, “Who said we agreed to show up to this thing at all.”

“What? So you’re suggesting we say no and carry on? That’s going to crush Eomma,” Wonwoo sounds a little distressed, “There’s gotta be another way.” 

Now, Soonyoung has never claimed to be the smartest person in the world but this — this one will make it into the poor-judgement hall of fame. He doesn’t know what possesses him in that moment nor why he doesn’t simply end the conversation right there and confess everything to his parents. Maybe it’s the desperation for this conversation to be done and over with or maybe — and this seems more likely — he’s setting the board for a very, very dangerous game. 

“Then let’s fake it,” the silence prompts Soonyoung to quickly clarify, “Just for the holiday— or at least until you want to tell them.” 

The lack of immediate protest lets him know that he and Wonwoo are on the same page. Wonwoo lets out a little huff, like the very idea of pretending to still love Soonyoung is tiring, “And there’s absolutely no way around this? You can’t think of anything else at all?” 

“You seriously hate my company that much? Already?” Soonyoung tries to brush off the hurt, chalking it up to the fact that the wounds haven’t had time to close over, “I don’t really see any other way. Do you?”

“Why are you so okay with this?”

That, in itself, is damn near insulting. 

“I’m not sure what you expected me to suggest,” Soonyoung snaps, “What about this call makes you think I’m okay with anything that’s going on right now?” 

“See? This is why I don’t like talking.” 

“Grow up, Wonwoo.” 

It’s odd to think that there was a point in time where the only person Soonyoung could comfortably talk to was Wonwoo. Now, they can’t seem to get through a single conversation with any level of civility. In fact, the more they talk, the worse things feel, the more tense they grow. Soonyoung can’t bring himself to be surprised anymore; it would be foolish. It’s like picking at a scab that has yet to heal and being surprised every time when conditions worsen. 

The silence between them is suffocating. Soonyoung hates being angry, it makes his skin burn in the worst way and leaves an ugly pit in his stomach. Alas, Wonwoo seems to be bringing out the worst in him. That’s new. It seems every time they’ve spoken in the last month, Soonyoung discovers new things about himself, things he’s starting to wish stayed undiscovered. There’s no sound on the other end aside from Wonwoo’s soft breathing. Soonyoung needs this call to be over. 

“Okay. Okay, fine,” Wonwoo finally huffs out, “You’re right.”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes, “I usually am. Can you text me the rest of the details?”

“Before you go—” Wonwoo begins but only to catch himself, like he’s erased the thought in real time, “You know what? Never mind, Sure. I’ll text you.”

Any instinct he has to prod, he swallows down. It’s not worth the time nor the effort. Clearly, none of it had been in the first place. Soonyoung hangs up almost immediately. 

Later that night, for the first time in a good while, Soonyoung gets drunk.

—————————–

_August, 2008._

The cool, autumn air makes Soonyoung’s hair stand on end, goosebumps erupting over his skin. It’s biting, but not unbearably so. To many if not most, it would probably be considered a nice night. To Soonyoung, someone who’s perpetually cold (or, at least that’s what Wonwoo claims), it’s bridging the line of complaint-worthy. 

Before he has a chance to act on this though, Wonwoo, who’s trying to get comfortable beside him, dumps a fleece blanket onto his lap. He’d forgotten about those for a second there, grunting out a quiet thanks before wrapping it around his shoulders and drawing his knees close to his chest. 

“I told you you’d get cold,” Wonwoo teases, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

Soonyoung pouts, “I’m not _that_ cold. Are you sure we’re not going to get in trouble for being up here?” 

“Nah. Mom and Dad are asleep. Plus, I do this all the time so it’s no biggie,” Wonwoo reassures, though Soonyoung is still a little doubtful, “The stars are really nice this time of night.” 

Soonyoung supposes he’s right. It’s not like Wonwoo’s parents would be too upset, even if they did find out. Besides, there’s minimal light pollution this far out from the city and Wonwoo’s roof provides a front row seat to the night-sky, as uncomfortable or dangerous as it may be. A little risk is worth the beauty. He pulls the blanket around him a little tighter and hums though he’s sure the sound gets lost in the crickets. 

“Do you sit up here a lot?” He asks softly, almost as if he was worried he would disturb the peace if he spoke any louder.

Wonwoo shrugs, “Every few nights, if it’s nice out. Sometimes more.” 

Soonyoung can see why. Though he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate it before, the view really was breathtaking. The sky was painted over in navy blue, darkening over the horizon, and speckled with a museum of bright stars. At the center of it was the moon, almost blinding and full, completing it all with her presence. Soonyoung appreciated nature, but he’d never truly been in awe of it until right then. 

“You know, you’re the only one I’ve brought up here,” Wonwoo says, breaking the easy silence that had settled between them. 

That catches Soonyoung’s attention. He turns to look at Wonwoo whose eyes are still glued to the sky. His breath catches in his throat. Of all the people in the world, he picks Soonyoung. They were best friends, it really shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does but he suddenly feels the urge to thank Wonwoo. He’s not really sure what for — maybe just for being there. It makes all the difference, after all. 

Soonyoung realizes he hasn’t said anything and quickly springs to speak, “Really?”

Wonwoo hums in affirmation. Soonyoung still can’t pull his eyes away from Wonwoo’s face. If he’s learned anything in the last 6 years, it’s that Wonwoo is a shy person, soft spoken and not easy to rile up. People often mistake him as non-expressive and even cold but Soonyoung knows better. In fact, looking at him now, eyes sparkling with the reflection of a million stars, the moonlight casting a shadow over his cheeks, features so painfully _open_ , it’s hard to understand how anyone could think that of Wonwoo. 

“Why me?”

“Who else but you?”

The more that he ponders on it, the more Soonyoung comes to understand that he truly can’t recall a time without Wonwoo. Sure, he remembers the day they’d met — almost word for word, actually — and every moment, every following snapshot together up until the very present. He’s heard adults talk about this before, meeting someone who changes your life forever. But, as with most things, Wonwoo is different — in order for his life to have been changed, there needs to have existed a time before Wonwoo. There wasn’t a second Soonyoung could bring to mind that Wonwoo wasn’t right there, providing everything with his presence alone, like he always had been.

It’s right then that Soonyoung understands because how could he not? Wonwoo wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, simply _being_ , unknowingly the most precious and beautiful thing that Soonyoung has ever been given the privilege of existing beside. Realizing he was in love with Jeon Wonwoo was as natural as the night turns to day. Trying to remember a time where he was not proved to be the hard part.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Wonwoo asks, finally turning to meet Soonyoung’s gaze. 

Soonyoung lets out a soft sigh and smiles, “It is.”

—————————–

“I’m sorry, you’re doing _what?_ ”

Telling Jihoon was never supposed to be easy but Soonyoung wasn’t sure if he could sit through another lecture. That’s why when it came down to it, Jihoon had been the last person Soonyoung sat down and talked to. His roommate is settled in front of him, hair mussed from sleep and a coffee mug in hand, sharp eyes calculating, almost as though he were trying to pick apart Soonyoung’s brain. The worst part is that Soonyoung can’t even blame him; this plan sounds awful to any sane person, including Soonyoung and he thought he was losing it a little. 

“I’m saving Christmas,” he replies weakly.

The look Jihoon gives him is enough to indicate that he better offer up a proper explanation before he gets the real earful. Jihoon can be surprisingly talkative when he wants to be, even more so when he’s pissed. 

“Okay, fine, but nobody knows better than me that this is a terrible idea,” Soonyoung attempts to defend himself weakly, “I don’t need you telling me too.”

Jihoon crosses his arms, “Tough luck. This is a terrible idea. Why are you doing this to yourself? Was the moping not enough?”

Soonyoung groans and rubs his forehead. In reality, he really doesn’t know why he’s doing this. It would be so much easier to call his mom right now, let her know everything that had happened in the last month and half, and move on with his life. Instead, he’s stuck packing for a trip home with his ex-boyfriend for the holidays. Every single time he talks himself through it, he finds himself lamenting more that this may have been one of the worst decisions he’s ever made. And that’s counting the time he turned up to his chem final after having not shown up for a single class that semester. 

“Soonyoung, you’re going to hurt yourself.” 

“I fucking _know_ , Jihoon,” He says through gritted teeth, finally standing up and off the couch, “I know it’s a bad idea. I know I shouldn’t be seeing him so soon, much less pretending to date him. I know he doesn’t deserve to see me and I know there’s a million ways this shitty plan goes south. Okay? I know. I get it.”

Jihoon’s lips press into a thin line and he narrows his eyes, “Then _why_?” 

That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it? 

Maybe it’s because it’s the only option that seems feasible. Maybe because he’s already agreed and he can’t back out. Or maybe, just maybe he needs to see Wonwoo again, just once before it all slipped away, like sand between his fingers. Years of love and many more of friendship, gone with the wind — it deserved more. Something that had been everything, however impermanent, deserved a proper farewell.

“Because I want to,” Soonyoung bites out. That’s what this all boils down to, right? 

Either way, that seems to be an answer enough for Jihoon because the other simply shakes his head and waves Soonyoung off, the disappointment evident in his features. As much as Jihoon pretends not to care, it’s times like these that Soonyoung can see and appreciate that Jihoon may, even if he will never admit it, give a little bit of a shit about him.

—————————–

_September, 2013._

Soonyoung and Wonwoo had been staring tensely at his laptop for the better part of the last 10 minutes. 

The little red notification circle that hung over Soonyoung’s mail app was taunting them, silently demanding to be attended to though neither of them made a move to do so. It was intimidating, waiting to peek at your first potential acceptance or rejection letter and a 17-year-old Soonyoung, as confident as he was, was only human. His parents had reassured him what felt like a million times over that he had nothing to worry about but all of that felt so far away when looking his future directly in the face… or screen. 

“Just do it,” Wonwoo finally spoke, causing Soonyoung to startle in his place on the bed. 

Soonyoung turned to his best friend mournfully, “But what if they say no? Wonwoo, what if I’m actually never going to go to university? I’ll die homeless, I swear.” 

Okay, so he was being a little dramatic. Wonwoo had to have been used to this by now, and Soonyoung knew this because the look the other boy gives him is one of utter exasperation. He only pouts, turning back to the screen with a frown. 

Wonwoo gently nudged him, voice smooth and sure when he spoke, “The absolute worst they can say is no and I really don’t think that’ll be the case, Soon. Do it like a bandaid.”

“Don’t give me false hope,” Soonyoung whined, slamming his laptop shut and pushing it off his lap with a frustrated huff. He crossed his arms, eyes never leaving the humming device. He’d throw it out a window if he could, abandon all technology and go live in the forest. No college, no career — just him, a bow, and nature. And maybe Wonwoo, if he decided he wanted to come along as well, which, knowing Wonwoo, he absolutely would. If for anything then to keep Soonyoung from dying within the first few days. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Wonwoo chimed back in, “Hyung.” 

Wonwoo was giving him the _look_. He didn’t have to turn and see for himself, he knew damn well what it felt like to have Wonwoo give him the look and he’s not giving into it today. Nope, no way in hell. 

Then, there came a call of his name, this time softer, “Soonyoung-ah. Look at me, please?” 

If there was anything Soonyoung couldn’t deny, it was a direct instruction. When his gaze does finally catch Wonwoo’s, it was painted with understanding rather than the annoyance he’d been initially expecting. He both hated and loved that Wonwoo was capable of calming him with an expression alone but then again, he’d always been weak in matters regarding Jeon Wonwoo. 

“I promise you no matter what the results are, everything will be fine, okay? I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Soonyoung hated it when Wonwoo said stuff like that. It made all those stupid, suffocating feelings swell as an orchestra crescendos, loud, impossible to ignore, and all consuming. He hated even more that it worked every single time. Growing up, he’d been told over and over again just how independent he is, what a great leader he’d be by teachers and other adults alike. In a sense, it was all a lie, this façade that he’s alright on his own. It made him worry that he’d been taken Wonwoo for granted all along. 

“Okay.” His voice was barely above a whisper, like the word pained him to say.

Wonwoo picked up the laptop and placed it onto Soonyoung’s lap before sidling closer, nodding once. He placed his hand on Soonyoung’s shoulder. The comforting contact was enough to make the older boy hold his breath. Soonyoung opened it up again and without giving himself time to overthink, quickly goes to click on the email that’s been sitting at the top of his inbox, unread. 

_Kwon Soonyoung, congratulations! We are excited to inform you that you have been admitted to Seoul National University…_

“Oh my fucking god.” 

He read it again once. And then twice. And then three more times consecutively. Though he understood logically, the words didn’t seem to fully register in his head at all. He, Kwon Soonyoung, was officially going to college. All of it kind of felt like a dream. He read the first line of the email again, just to make sure nothing had changed in the few seconds he’s taken to try and process this new information. 

It’s only when he blinked back into reality that he realized Wonwoo was talking to him again, this time at double the speed and with double the excitement, “...did it! Mom and dad are going to be so happy to hear about this! I told you you could do it. I knew you could!” 

Wonwoo looked more happy than Soonyoung felt and that was saying something. The younger boy was practically buzzing, bouncing in his spot on the bed, the mattress squeaking under their weight. His eyes were wide and bright, twinkling just as they had that night on the roof all those years ago only this time, it’s Soonyoung at the focus of his gaze.

“I’m so proud of you,” Wonwoo finished his train of thought, settling finally with a soft smile. 

Those words make Soonyoung’s chest ache. Of all the things in the world, there’s nothing worth more to him than Wonwoo’s pride and happiness. To think he’s feeling all this on behalf of Soonyoung makes him want to cry. How Wonwoo can be so painfully _sincere_ is a mystery.

Soonyoung found his own grin pulling at his lips as the news finally processed in his mind. He turned fully to Wonwoo and shook his arm, “Now, all we have to do is wait for your acceptance letter!”

Though he wasn’t entirely sure why, that clearly wasn’t the right thing to say because Wonwoo’s expression seemed to fall slightly as he forced out a chuckle, “Yeah, right. I’m sure it’ll all work out great.” 

That made Soonyoung pause, eyebrows furrowing as he grabbed Wonwoo’s hand, the unspoken meaning of the words settled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, “It will. Let me believe in you too, even if it’s for the both of us.” 

There was a heavy silence between them but Soonyoung refused to break eye-contact because for all the uncertainty that was still swimming in Wonwoo’s eyes, there was nothing in the world that Soonyoung was more sure about than Wonwoo’s undeniable and downright brilliance, even if he couldn’t see it himself. The thought hadn’t even entered his mind that Wonwoo wouldn’t be right there beside him on the first day and he refused to entertain it. 

Wonwoo was the first to look away though his eyes only seemed to fall to their hands which had intertwined against Soonyoung’s grey sheets. Soonyoung loosened his grip, embarrassment hitting him like a wave as he quickly opened his mouth to apologize. Wonwoo hooked their pinkies quickly, refusing to let him go. The feeling of Wonwoo’s skin against Soonyoung’s is a comforting one. There was a clear flush on the younger’s cheeks, noticeable even under the minimal glow of Soonyoung’s open laptop. 

“Wonwoo?” 

There was an unreadable expression on Wonwoo’s face as he asked, sounding more unsure than Soonyoung had ever heard him before, “Promise we’ll do this together?” 

Soonyoung had never been more sure of anything in his life when he said, “Always. I promise.” 

Two weeks later, Wonwoo also got his acceptance letter. Soonyoung had never seen Mr. Jeon cry but he was positive he caught the older man a little misty eyed as they broke the news to their families. For the first time in a long time, Soonyoung was excited at the prospect of the future and everything that was to come with it, given that Wonwoo was right there with him.

—————————–

Learning to live without Wonwoo was like having to learn to walk all over again.

Even in the most mundane, everyday happenings, Wonwoo had always been a point of consideration and his absence was glaringly obvious otherwise. Soonyoung had gotten rather used to falling asleep to the sounds of Wonwoo tapping away at his keyboard. As he packs for the week away, thoughts of Wonwoo pop into his head entirely against his will. It’s impossible to escape whether it be the urge to set aside the spare contacts because Wonwoo has a habit of losing his glasses or to set a reminder about stopping at the mini-mart to get extra snacks because Wonwoo seemed to burn through them even quicker on roadtrips. 

It feels almost offensive that he has to remind himself to not care. When he stops caring, none of this feels real at all. The last month had been a blur entirely. 

Speaking of, Wonwoo is also supposed to be picking him up anytime now. They had figured it would’ve been odd to show up in separate cars. Clearly, it didn’t matter regardless because Wonwoo is half an hour late — not that Soonyoung minds, in fact, he’s still packing, stuck trying to decide between two sweaters. He ends up packing them both. 

When Soonyoung finally zips up the last of his bags, almost as if on cue, there’s a knock at his door.

If learning to live without Wonwoo was hard, gearing up to see him after a month and a half of almost nothing is enough to make Soonyoung want to make a break for it. Only when he realizes that there’s no way out of his apartment aside from the front door (woes of living on the 6th floor), he relents and hoists his bags onto his back. Like with all else, not thinking about it seems to be the current course of action, history be damned. 

Well, at least that was the course of action up until Jeon Wonwoo was standing right in front of him, as real as he always had been. He’s dressed comfortably in a dark hoodie and sweats, round glasses perched high on his nose and a phone in hand. As much as Soonyoung absolutely hates admitting it, he not only looks totally unbothered, but he looks good. It really is as if none of this had affected him at all. 

Only when Soonyoung realizes that neither of them are saying anything does he clear his throat and straighten his back, building the walls right back up, “You’re late.” 

“Like you’re ever ready on time?” Wonwoo retorts, as quick witted as ever, “Giving you half hour leeway was a favor.” 

Wonwoo is right — curse him — but Soonyoung is not going down without a fight, “Thanks but I was done half an hour ago.” 

Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t call his bluff and simply shakes his head. It’s really not worth the argument. Instead, he nods towards Soonyoung’s bags, “So, you _are_ ready?”

“That _is_ what I just said,” Soonyoung hums. 

They don’t speak again after that. It’s weird. All of this is really, really weird. Soonyoung almost prefers arguing to total silence. This gives him way too much time to think and thinking is incredibly dangerous. Especially when Wonwoo is right there. God, Wonwoo is so much easier to ignore when Soonyoung can pretend he doesn’t exist. 

To say Soonyoung hates this is an understatement. Acting like a stranger to someone you know better than yourself is _difficult_. Nothing is the same. Soonyoung, who’s so prone to ritual and habit has to face change directly and he’s not sure how long he can keep it together before he’s forced to face the ultimate truth that maybe he’d never been better off without Wonwoo all along.

Before all of this inevitably collapses in on itself. 

They do end up stopping at a drugstore and Soonyoung has to swallow down the affection that bubbles to the surface as Wonwoo scrutinizes over what Pringles flavor sounds best. As he always does, he ends up picking sour cream and onion. It’s nice to know that in the midst of this hurricane of unfamiliarity, some things haven’t changed.

—————————–

_October, 2015._

How could Soonyoung fuck up this bad? 

Especially after he’d spent so long planning exactly how he wanted to do this. Things weren’t supposed to happen like this at all. He shouldn’t have gotten that drunk, he shouldn’t have kissed Wonwoo, and they definitely shouldn’t have fucked before talking. 

All those confessions he’d strung together in his mind, the date ideas, and the fantasies of _finally_ getting Wonwoo to catch a hint, all of it down the drain in a series of poor drunken decisions. Soonyoung would’ve taken more time to mourn his friendship if his head wasn’t pounding. Probably even more so if Wonwoo wasn’t right there, snoring softly under the heavy duvet. 

It hadn’t taken long for Soonyoung to realize where he was; he knew Wonwoo’s dorm better than he knew his own. What _had_ been the surprise was the warm body sidled up against his backside, the strong arm thrown haphazardly over his waist, and the slow breaths fanning out against the nape of his neck. Only after a glance and few moments did the memories all come rushing back like an avalanche. First, it was panic that prickled at the corners of his mind, panic that quickly morphed into self-loathing, and then grief. 

To work so hard and to come so far only to watch it all crash down in a single night; to just lose someone who meant so _much_? To have a lifetime of memories slip between your fingers like sand? There was nothing more terrifying. 

“Soonyoung?” 

Wonwoo’s voice was low and a little raspy, laced with sleep as he shifted against the sheets. Soonyoung forgot how to breathe for a moment, desperately trying to swallow down the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Wonwoo, too nervous at the prospect of what he may find. In fact, he had absolutely _no idea_.

Then the voice came again, a little clearer and a little more hesitant now, “Soonyoung. Can you please look at me?” 

Soonyoung had his back to Wonwoo, legs slung over the side of the bed as he went over his options. With that soft request, he was turning, movements almost jerky as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. When he finally looked at Wonwoo, he noticed the younger had shifted so he was partially upright, perched against the bed on one arm. There was a small smile on his face, not mocking nor condescending but fond. It was enough to make some of the tension bleed away from Soonyoung’s bare shoulders. 

His face began to feel suspiciously warm as he flounders, “I’m sorry about last night.” 

Wonwoo’s smile dropped and his brows pulled together in confusion, as if he hadn’t a clue what Soonyoung could possibly be apologizing for, as if none of this bothered him at all, “You’re sorry?”

“It’s just—” Soonyoung jumped in to explain himself, though his stomach was churning and all his words felt clunky, “It was a bad, split-second decision and you’re my best friend and I really don’t want to ruin anything. You mean more to me than drunk sex, Wonwoo. I wanted to do this right, you know?” 

“You haven’t ruined anything,” Wonwoo sounded awake and a little alarmed now as he sat up fully, “Do you regret sleeping with me? Is that what this is?” 

“No!” The answer was sharp and immediate, almost taking Wonwoo aback, “No, of course not. I would never regret something like that, I—“

Wonwoo looked cautious as he implored further, “You what?” 

“Need to use your bathroom.” 

Never did Soonyoung think he would be on the floor of best friend’s bathroom, keeled over his toilet and coughing out the remnants of last night’s dinner the morning after trying to confess to him but Soonyoung is nothing if not a total mess. 

A few moments later, he felt a warm hand against the small of his back, rubbing soothing circles into his heated skin. The mortification began to claw at his chest but he couldn’t bring himself to dwell on it, stomach heaving as another wave of nausea hit him. Along with the presence settling beside him, he heard Wonwoo’s hushes paired with soft words of encouragement. He felt awful and he knew he probably looked awful. Like complete and utter shit. Yet Wonwoo seemed undeterred, waiting patiently for Soonyoung to finish spilling his guts. 

With a shaky breath, Soonyoung blindly reaches to flush, grimacing as he finally slumps down against the cool tile. Wonwoo’s hand stilled but remained as it was, providing a comforting weight against Soonyoung’s skin. He’s trembling slightly and he can’t tell if it’s from how ill he feels or the fear that he’s put the final nail in the coffin. 

“You okay there?” Wonwoo’s voice was teasing and light, bouncing off the walls of the bathroom as he eased a bottle of water into Soonyoung’s hands, “Remind me again to never take you to another one of Chan’s parties.” 

Soonyoung sat there silently, fingers twitching around the bottle as he stared at Wonwoo with a mixture of befuddlement and affection. Even now, even when Soonyoung _felt_ like the bottom of the barrel, Wonwoo is unknowingly persistent, never once hesitating to make Soonyoung as if he were the only thing in the world that mattered. That’s why, when it came down to the bare bones of it all, the words slipped from his mouth before he had time to think anything through.

“I love you.”

Wonwoo froze, eyes widening briefly before he placatingly responded, “I love you too, Soonyoung. Now, brush your teeth.” 

Frustration pooled in Soonyoung’s gut in replacement of the nausea as he got onto his knees and straightened up, looking Wonwoo directly in the eyes as he firmly spoke, “No, Wonwoo. I _love_ you.” 

Those words had never come easy before, always feeling as though they’d get stuck in his throat the moment he tried to force them out. But now? With Wonwoo sitting here with him on the ground of a bathroom that smelled like vomit and bleach? As disgusting as it was, it felt like the only thing he could say with absolute certainty. 

“You… love me?” Wonwoo says, sounding the words out as if they were in another language entirely.

“Yes!” Soonyoung replied with urgency, exasperated and relieved, “That’s what I’ve been trying to say for a _while_ now.” 

Wonwoo blinks at him owlishly, like the words haven’t registered at all, “Like… _love_ love?”

Soonyoung shakes his head and laughs, the situation growing more incredulous as they spoke, “Yes. I _love_ love you, Jeon Wonwoo.”

“Oh.” Wonwoo responded intelligently before his face began to pinken slowly, matching the flush on Soonyoung’s cheeks, “I… really? And you decided right now was the best time to tell me?” 

“Wonwoo.” 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he chuckles softly, smoothing his thumbs over the underside of Soonyoung’s wrists, “Me too, you know?” 

“You too?” 

Soonyoung feels his brains stagger with hope. He hadn’t exactly expected that response, or a real response at all. In fact, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. The nervousness had been replaced with raw adrenaline as his heart began to swell, a little more desperate for a clearer answer. He had waited all this time; he needed to know. 

“I… I love you too,” his voice gets softer with every word as he lets go of one of Soonyoung’s hands to rub the back of his neck, “For a long time now. I honestly thought you knew.” 

“Like, _love_ love?” 

“Shut up. Yes. I _love_ love you too, Kwon Soonyoung.” 

Soonyoung can’t help the grin that begins on his lips, feeling giddy, “Kiss me?” 

“Absolutely not,” Wonwoo says, feigning disgust, “Brush your teeth and maybe then we’ll talk, Casanova.” 

A small pout makes its way onto Soonyoung’s lips, “If you love me then you’ll kiss me.”

Wonwoo looks to be in the midst of a mental battle for several seconds. In the end, he leans forward, fully attempting to catch Soonyoung’s lips against his own. Before he can though, the older backs away and out of reach with a loud, dramatic gasp, bursting into a fit of giggles, “You were really gonna do it? That’s gross, Wonwoo, even for you.” 

“Are you—?” Wonwoo looked affronted, trying not to break into laughter himself, “Of course, I was going to do it!” 

Soonyoung knocks Wonwoo’s shoulder with his hip as he stands, teasingly cooing, “I’m brushing my teeth now.”

—————————–

“So, I’m thinking we have to go over a plan here.”

Soonyoung is half-asleep, forehead pressed to the window and fully tuned out of whatever podcast Wonwoo is playing. Now that Wonwoo is speaking, he notices how much the car has quieted and sits up a little straighter in his seat, blinking back to full consciousness. 

“Plan?” He blurts out unintelligently. 

Wonwoo taps on the steering wheel, “We’ll be there in a couple hours. We need a plan.” 

Right. Things really had changed, hadn’t they? To think they’d have to discuss how to act as though they still loved one another. Ouch. Soonyoung runs his hand through his hair, messy from the awkward position he’d been resting in, “The plan is get there and act like normal.” 

“Because things are so normal right now,” Wonwoo mutters sarcastically, “My parents are like hawks when it comes to this shit. You know this.”

Soonyoung does know this and he relents, crossing his arms against his chest and furrowing his brows in thought, “Should we talk boundaries then?” 

Even so, it was hard to think of boundaries that could even be put in place. Soonyoung could do a lot of things but he couldn’t see the future and the last thing he wanted to do was discuss this anymore than was strictly necessary. Despite this, he knew their proverbial plan had to account for as many potential scenarios as they could come up with. 

Wonwoo looks thoughtful, tapping lightly on the steering wheel, something he always seems to do when he’s focusing, “Well, I don’t exactly think we’re going to get away with... _this_.” He nods between the two of them.

“No shit, Sherlock.” 

The more they seemed to speak, the more landmines seemed to appear in the conversation. It was clear that neither of them wanted to offer up suggestions, almost too embarrassed to do so. Embarrassed or scared, suffocated with the worry of saying too much because really, this had become too much the moment Wonwoo had called. 

“Hand holding is fine,” Soonyoung finally offers, the first to break between the two of them. 

Wonwoo lets out a breath, shoulders sagging, “Okay. Is anything not fine?”

“Let’s avoid mistletoes.”

“Heard.”

That’s one of the benefits of knowing someone for so long. Wonwoo understands what he means and the conversation is left at that, silence settling between the two of them. When it gets to be uncomfortable, Wonwoo slides up the volume on the radio once again. 

Soonyoung tastes bile at the back of his throat and clenches his fists in his lap. He swallows down the bitterness and turns his eyes to the flakes of snow caught against the car window. He focuses on the way they melt against the glass, droplets trembling with the force of the wind before disappearing altogether. For a moment, he envies them. 

The silence carries over for the next hour. The only sounds heard are the soft hum of the car, the whoosh of passing ones, and the voice filtering through the speakers. Soonyoung finds that time passes impossibly fast when he zones out but every minute is agonizing the more his mind whirs. He almost cries tears of relief when Wonwoo pulls off the freeway and into a rest stop. His whole body is beginning to ache. 

A small shiver runs through his body as he steps out onto the pavement, tugging his beanie down over his ears. The air is cold against his cheeks, nipping at his sensitive skin unpleasantly. It’s barely half past five and the sun is already beginning to set, the sky beginning to melt into oranges and pinks. As nice as Christmastime is, he will never learn to enjoy the cold. How winter can be anybody’s favorite season, it is utterly beyond him. 

“Pull your mask up. It’ll keep your face warm.” 

Wonwoo’s voice has Soonyoung turning swiftly, almost knocking himself off balance. There’s a small smile on Wonwoo’s face. If Soonyoung didn’t know any better, he would’ve mistaken it as affection. Regardless, he pulls up his mask over his nose and gives a little nod Wonwoo’s way in thanks. He supposes that for all the ways that Wonwoo hasn’t changed, he is very consistent in his own ways as well. Wonwoo is the first to break eye contact, hitting the top of the car once before shutting his door. 

“Right,” Wonwoo says awkwardly, shifting his weight, “I’m getting something from the food court and I’ll be back.” 

Soonyoung nods again, “I’m taking a bathroom break.” 

Once they part ways, he speedwalks toward the main building, attempting to escape the brisk cold as quickly as he can. As soon as he finds the bathroom and is safely locked away in a stall, he heaves out a deep breath, slumping against the stall door. There’s some tacky American Christmas music playing over the speakers. He tunes it out. He presses his palm against his chest, heart pounding against his fingers. It grows louder than the music with every thump. The anxiety begins to catch up with him with every passing second and he quickly rubs his eyes in a weak attempt to ease it away. 

The worst part of this all is that Wonwoo was so stupidly composed, it made Soonyoung feel hysterical. In fact, he was probably already eating away at dinner, stress-free and dandy while Soonyoung had to use everything he had in himself in order to keep it together for the next three days. 

He feels sick again and forces himself off the wall. He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there but he knows he better wrap it up before Wonwoo comes looking for him. Smoothing out his hoodie, he flushes the toilet and picks the nearest sink. Thankfully, there’s nobody else there. After pulling down his mask, he splashes some water over his face, rubbing it into his skin before standing straight and blinking the droplets out of his eyelashes. When he meets his own eyes in the mirror, hollow and tired, he feels his stomach turn. 

This whole thing was pathetic. 

Once he’d given himself a final glance, he pushed himself away from the counter and readjusted his mask, hurrying back to the car. Wonwoo, the bastard, had parked at the far end of the parking lot. He used to say that he liked the walk and that it was safer this way. Soonyoung usually didn’t mind. Right now though, with his ears aching from the cold, he found himself mildly annoyed.

Wonwoo is already in the car. When Soonyoung gets in, he notices a plastic food container sitting atop the glove compartment. Wonwoo grunts in greeting, still clearly immersed in his food. Soonyoung settles back against his seat and shuts his eyes. He doesn’t get to relax for long before he hears a hesitant voice from beside him. 

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I got the kimchi fried rice,” Wonwoo explains expectantly, “And they didn’t have any poweraid so here’s lemon tea.” 

Soonyoung blinked once then twice, “You got me food?” 

“Yes?”

“Why?” Soonyoung is strung tight like a bow, eyes nervously darting between the food and Wonwoo, almost as though he distrusted both, like there was some hidden agenda he had to work past. 

Wonwoo’s features seem to falter, “Because it’s dinnertime and we haven’t eaten?” 

Several moments pass before Soonyoung slowly grabs the package and sets it on his lap. It’s still warm and smells amazing. The gesture on Wowoo’s part makes this all feel dizzyingly familiar, even a little intimate. He begins to undo the plastic, ignoring the tremor in his hand as he forces out a robotic thanks, “Right. Thank you.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything but Soonyoung can feel his stare. It makes his skin itch. He ignores it, digging into the food. He hadn’t felt hungry prior to eating, but the food seemed to jumpstart his appetite, stomach growling loudly in complaint. Not long after, Wonwoo turns back to his own food. Quiet music comes from the speakers and it’s enough to make the quietness comfortable. Soonyoung decides to focus on that. 

By the time he’s done, tucking the remaining plastic away into the bag, he notices the sun is finally making it’s slow descent below the horizon. Their families live close to the countryside; one of Soonyoung’s favorite things about driving this far out from Seoul is clear skies, unhindered by pollution. He can feel Wonwoo’s eyes on him again and it begins to grow a little suffocating. 

“What?” He snaps, turning his head sharply, “Why do you keep looking at me? Is there food on my face or something?” 

Wonwoo freezes like a deer caught in headlights, “No, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

Soonyoung almost burst out into laughter right there, only there was nothing humorous about the situation. Wonwoo had to be taunting him at this point. Anger curled in his gut and he narrowed his eyes, “With all due respect, I’d really rather you didn’t.” 

If Wonwoo has a response, he clearly swallows it down. Soonyoung can recognize the irritation beginning to show in Wonwoo’s movements. He pretends not to notice.

“Are you done with your food?” 

He takes the bags from Wonwoo when he nods, bundling the garbage up neatly before getting out of the car and scanning the lot for the closest recycle bin. Really, he just needed another second of air. Once he’d disposed of everything, he climbed back into the car. 

“Thanks,” Wonwoo says flatly, “You have everything?”

“Yup. ETA?” 

“Hour and a half or so. I’ll wake you up when we’re close.”

“Right. Thank you,” Soonyoung mumbles, already curling up in the passenger seat.

—————————–

When they’re finally pulling into the Jeon’s highway, Soonyoung feels surprisingly calm.

In fact, if anybody is panicking, it’s Wonwoo. He’s tapping incessantly on the steering wheel with one hand, the other white knuckling the stick shift. For a moment, he looks so… young. A little like he had on their first day of college. Soonyoung, against his better judgement, nudges him. Wonwoo sharply turns to look at him. 

“Hey, chill out. We’ll be fine, okay?” Soonyoung says a lot more confidently than he feels, “We’re in this together. Nothing we haven’t done before.” 

Fake or not, it works and Wonwoo visibly relaxes, “Do you want me to get the bags?” 

Soonyoung shakes his head, “Let’s say hello to your parents first.” 

“Any way we could _not_ do that?” Wonwoo sighs, rubbing his forehead. He’s not being serious and Soonyoung knows that. 

“Not if you don’t want Mom to drag us out of the car herself,” Soonyoung teases, “Every second you mope, the likelier that becomes by the way.” 

The conversation is surprisingly light considering the circumstances. It seems to ease the nervousness between both of them though and that made all the difference. Wonwoo takes one last deep breath before looking at Soonyoung for affirmation. Soonyoung nods once and gets out of the car, Wonwoo following close behind as they walk up the pathway to the house. He decides it’s best to do this like a bandaid and knocks twice without thought or hesitation, hearing voices and a scuffle from inside. A few moments later, the door opens. 

Mr. and Mrs. Jeon look just as they always have, maybe a little greyer around the hairline, but the same nonetheless. Wonwoo is the first to surge forward, wrapping his mother up in a tight hug. There’s a whispered conversation between them before they’re pulling apart, Wonwoo quickly being tugged into a hug with his father. Soonyoung stands there awkwardly, keeping his distance and waiting patiently for the greetings to conclude. His stomach twists uncomfortably. It feels too personal, like he’s watching something he shouldn’t be. He isn’t supposed to be here, as familiar as it feels. 

Before Soonyoung allows himself to think anymore than he already has, he’s being pulled forward and into a hug by Wonwoo’s mom who’s gushing, “Soonyoungie! Long time no see, eh? You need to call your Eomma more! I only hear about you from Wonwoo now.” 

Soonyoung forces out a chuckle, narrowly steering clear of the truth as he pulls back with a grin, “I’ve just had so much schoolwork, but I promise I’ll call more from now on.”

She pinches his cheek before patting it and turning to her husband who offers Soonyoung his hand. Soonyoung bows his head respectfully as he shakes it, “Thank you for inviting us.” 

“You’re always welcome here, Soonyoung-ah, drop the formalities,” Mr. Jeon reassures him heartily, “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to see us.” 

Soonyoung felt like he had been punched in the gut. He feels undeserving of the kindness, like he’s tricking them, In a way, he is. He’s a bad actor and a worse liar so really, he only had himself to blame. Too much. This was all too much. This had always been too much. He was stupid, he was so stupid to have thought any of this could work. As he stood there, catching fucking flies, he probably looked like the biggest idiot in the world. He had come all this way, devised this ill-advised plan, all to embarrass himself when it mattered most. He was a nuisance and a liar, just another--

“Soonyoung-ah?” Wonwoo questions quietly, “Want to go inside?” 

Wonwoo’s parents are looking at him expectantly, completely oblivious to the mental meltdown he’s currently having. He jerkily nods, breathing out another thank you. If it doesn’t look natural, the Jeons don’t comment on it, as polite as ever. Before Soonyoung has the time to process the action, Wonwoo hooks their pinkies and pulls him into the house. They only detach to shed their shoes and coats but as soon as they do so, Wonwoo is linking their hands again.

He thanks every deity he can think of for the fact that Wonwoo seems to be a hell of a lot better at acting than he is, even if he had been the one doing the comforting earlier. 

“We know you two must be tired so we’ll let you unwind a little bit,” Wonwoo’s mom says understandingly, gesturing toward Wonwoo’s bedroom upstairs before giving a little wink and nudge, “If you’re interested later, we’re starting the fire and have some soju and wine.” 

Soonyoung laughed, sidling closer to Wonwoo subconsciously, “Thank you, we’ll let you know how we’re feeling in 30 minutes or so.”

They take that as their chance to finally make their way upstairs. The house is almost entirely identical to how it had been a decade prior. The same baby photos of Wonwoo still lined the staircase walls, the furniture hadn’t been replaced, and the floors still creaked in the same places. Things around here really didn’t change. Soonyoung couldn’t decide whether that was a good or a bad thing. 

Nostalgia is only as appreciated as the memories themselves. 

This remains true for the bedroom as well. As they stand in the doorway, Soonyoung not only realizes that there’s only one bed but that their hands are still intertwined. He loosens his grip. 

“You can let go of my hand now.” 

What can he say? Old habits die hard.

“Right. Sorry.” 

“Second order of business,” he tries to shake the awkwardness, “The one bed?” 

Wonwoo looks at him incredulously, “I’ve only ever had one bed.”

Soonyoung looks at him flatly before shaking his head and dropping his backpack onto the ground, “And you’re okay with sharing?” 

Every time he’s here, even years after having left home, it feels just like a sleepover. Just him and Wonwoo, as it had always been, in his childhood bedroom, exactly the same as they had left it, as if life had simply been put on pause. He can almost hear the faint sounds of Wonwoo’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard late at night. Hell, some of their old highschool textbooks were still neatly stacked on the desk. Soonyoung clears his throat of the lump beginning to form in it, sitting down. 

“I’m okay with it if you are,” Wonwoo says as though he’s picking his words carefully, “I mean, I can get you an air mattress if you really want but that might be—”

“Suspicious, I know,” Soonyoung sighs and drops his forehead into his hands, “Right. It’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s only until Christmas is over.”

The silence that settles between them is tense. It’s as if they’re both holding their breaths, waiting for the other to say something that may make this all seem better than it actually is. In reality, Soonyoung knows that this was an entirely self-dug grave. They’d gone this far and there was no way in hell there was any possibility of turning back now. Besides, what were they supposed to say? It had become too late for bad explanations the moment Soonyoung had gotten into Wonwoo’s car. Maybe even sooner than that; maybe it was all destined for downfall when Soonyoung had picked up the phone initially. 

He feels the bed dip beside him and he lifts his head finally, running his hands through his hair in the process. Wonwoo is looking at him in a way that he’s starting to get used to, a look he’d only recently begun to recognize. He can’t quite pinpoint what it is but it makes him squirm. 

“Did you want to go down?”

Soonyoung huffs, “I don’t think we have as much of a choice as you think we do.” 

Wonwoo hummed, “You’re probably right.” 

“Probably?” 

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything to that, letting the air settle uncomfortably around them once more. Soonyoung finds it hard to imagine that they’re supposed to exist like this for the next three days without it all backfiring. 

“Before we go downstairs,” Wonwoo started once again, trying his best not to disturb the manufactured peace, “I was wondering if we could talk.” 

Soonyoung pauses, brain short circuiting as he tries to find a response. Alarm bells begin to ring in his head, blaring and clear. This was getting dangerously close and Soonyoung could not make the same mistakes twice. No, not when he had already taken so much time to try and move on. He couldn’t be pulled back into this, his dignity would never allow for it. Besides, he really wasn’t sure if he could make it through twice without permanent damage being done. He’s out of his depth and he knows it. 

A part of him is ready to refuse, not wanting to drag on any unnecessary interactions. Another part of him recognizes how nervous Wonwoo seems and takes pity, “What did you want to talk about?” 

Wonwoo looks relieved, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about—”

_“Wonwoo-ah! Soonyoung-ah! We’re ready whenever you are!”_

“Duty calls,” Soonyoung jokes, standing abruptly. He won’t admit it aloud but he’s grateful for the interruption, “Can this wait?” 

The frustration is written clear as day on Wonwoo’s face and even if Soonyoung has half a mind to not care, he can’t help but be a little curious. Despite his obvious annoyance, Wonwoo just waves it off, “Yeah. It can wait. I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute.”

Soonyoung forces a half-smile before making his escape. He’s starting to get really good at this; running away from things, that is.

**Author's Note:**

> plot makes me nervous so i forced myself to write something super plotty for christmas. it's now february and i only have the first half so... that's where i'm at. think of this is as a slightly late or incredibly early loosely christmas fic. 
> 
> i hope this was coherent. thank u for reading!


End file.
